Everyday, i travel via bicycle and the MRT to work and back home. I listen to my PALM as it plays MP3. Ever so often, as i feel the wind blowing against my face, i just loose my mind from work and studies and focus on the music and the environment that i'm in. Usually, on my way home, my mp3 would be playin that familiar tune, Bruce Springsteen's Secret Garden. Its slow, rhythmic sound matches the coolness that i feel as i journey on my way home. I look at everything with a new focus. Every single object, every molecule is looked upon with a sense of awe and wonder. How each physical mass is collectively put together to form an object. I look at my hands, and i wonder. Am i really a soul, that lives within this shell of flesh and bones? Am i really the soul? Is this just a house to put my soul and spirit in? I try to visualize myself, staring through my eyes. Looking at the world around me. My hands, every breathe i take, how real are they? As real as my soul? Another song reaches out to me. the lyrics echoing what i face, so often do i seek solace in music. They speak to me, like a close friend, putting in words what he sees, describing my experiences, my thoughts. How true. THey say, that television mirrors real life. Well, music to me, mirrors real feelings. To be precise, my feelings. WHenever i feel down, i feel lonely, somehow, a song would be present to tell me what i'm feeling there and then. How much of it applies to my life? My emotions? So much similarites, yet so often the song will finish in a blaze of glory, a climatic ending. THe chorus ringing in my mind's eye. Well, the lyrics that follows speak of how i feel. Yet how i wish it was not true! All i can do, is to live each day for as long as it is...
What’s the time? Seems it’s already morning. I see the sky, it’s so beautiful and blue. The tv’s on but the only thing showing Is a picture of you.
Oh I get up and make myself some coffee. I try to read a bit but the story’s too thin. I thank the lord above You’re not here to see me in this shape I’m in.
Spending my time, Watching the days go by. Feeling so small, I stare at the wall, Hoping that you think of me too. I’m spending my time.
I try to call but I don’t know what to tell you. I leave a kiss on your answering machine. Oh help me please, Is there someone who can make me Wake up from this dream?
Spending my time, Watching the days go by. Feeling so small, I stare at the wall, Hoping that you are missing me too. I’m spending my time, Watching the sun go down. I fall asleep to the sound Of tears of a clown, A prayer gone blind. I’m spending my time
My friends keep telling me: Hey, life will go on, Time will make sure I’ll get over you. This silly game of love - You play, you win only to lose.
I’m spending my time, Watching the days go by. Feeling so small, I stare at the wall, Hoping that you think of me too. I’m spending my time.
I’m spending my time, Watching the sun go down. I fall asleep to the sound Of tears of a clown, A prayer gone blind. I’m spending my time.
